The One Adventure
by kittykatloren
Summary: The TARDIS was gone, but the other Doctor was still there. The warmth in his brown eyes was the same, the spattering of freckles that she only noticed when her face was inches away from his was the same, the way his lips curled up on one side in a hesitant smile was exactly the same. Rose/new!Doctor aka Tentoo series of stories chronicling their adjustment to a new life together.
1. I

**A/N:** So this is my big Dr. Who project... I kinda have one of these for every ship I fall in love with. A series of "what happened after" chronological oneshots between Rose and Tentoo. As much as the initial emotion shown in Journey's End implied that they would be perfectly happy (she finally kissed him!), I kinda think it wouldn't be that easy.

So this will be a multi-chapter fic, going through their journey together, learning to love despite everything they've lost. I originally intended to post it all at once, as a giant oneshot, but I liked each bit as a stand-alone, too. I'll try to post fast, but I keep going back and editing, so we'll see.

Some will be drabble-length, some much longer.

Enjoy and please review!

* * *

"So… What do we do now?"

His hand gripped hers tightly. Instinctively she twined their fingers together, his touch warm and familiar. The TARDIS was gone, but this _other_ Doctor was still there, still beside her. She studied every inch of his face. The warmth in his brown eyes was the same, the spattering of freckles that she only noticed when her face was inches away from his were the same, the way his lips curled up on one side in a hesitant smile was exactly the same.

"Figure it out, I guess," she said.

And there was something else that was the same, too. She had seen it years ago in a different face. It was that dark _something_ in his ageless gaze that drew her in, all that time ago, and again now, when she stood on her toes to kiss him again. She couldn't help it. Neither, it seemed, could he, because he held her more closely to him than he ever had before. He kissed her forehead, buried his face in her hair, and she was glad for it.

It meant that he couldn't see her face, nor the tears streaming down her cheeks.


	2. II

She didn't trust him. He moved in with her and her mum, because of course they just couldn't let him run off on his own, but he slept on the couch, and she would never quite meet his eyes.

It didn't matter that he was here, looked the same, talked the same, thought the same. The _real_ Doctor was still out there somewhere, exploring, laughing. Maybe he looked different. Maybe he found another girl whose hand he would clasp, a gleeful smile of impending adventure on his face. Together they were racing through the skies.

Rose Tyler wasn't that girl anymore. She hadn't been for some time. Rose Tyler was here, on this strange Earth, with this _other_ Doctor.

It was the strangest thing, being with him. She had never thought about it much before, but suddenly she was fiercely jealous of the real Doctor and his two hearts. Maybe if she had two, it wouldn't hurt so much. She could love each of the Doctors with a whole heart and there would be no confusion. Or one heart could ache for all that she had lost… while the other filled with warmth for the Doctor who was here, who smiled at her, who tried to make her pancakes in the morning.

Instead, both feelings happened at once, overwhelming her poor lonely heart, and it shook Rose to her very core. Pain was fiercer than joy. Pain smothered the warmth; she could not smile back at him.

"I am him, you know. He's me."

He'd say it every now and then. His eyes gleamed with unspoken emotion. Every now and then, he opened his mouth, as if he were going to say something further – but each time, he stopped short, and he never looked so sad as he did then. He could tell she was upset, she supposed, but how upset, he couldn't possibly have any idea.

"I know, Doctor," she'd reply, and look away.


	3. III

**A/N:** This piece was inspired by some really great songs - _Stars_ by Grace Potter and the Nocturnals and _Bright Lights and Cityscapes_ by Sara Bareilles.

* * *

She didn't look up at night anymore. She never left London, with its bright lights and cityscapes, washing a sparkling sky into a bland gray. If she saw stars, it hurt too much. He was there, somewhere, beyond her reach. She'd seen too many stars beside him to look at them now, so very alone. They used to face down demons out there in the cold night sky. Now they sheltered inside her, bitter and familiar.

The Doctor noticed. He'd see her eyes fixed firmly at her feet, and he wished he could take her there again. His heart – his single lonely, shadow of a heart – tightened in his chest.

"I'm sorry," he whispered one night, as they were walking back from the corner store together. Normally they were quiet if they ran errands together – but today she had almost smiled at him, when he turned up at the register with eggplants instead of cucumbers, cantaloupe instead of watermelon, laundry detergent instead of shampoo. She had turned her face away so fast, he wasn't sure, but he could have _sworn_ her lips twitched.

She was right next to him, and a million miles away.

"For what?"

"That I can't… give you the life you love. The adventure, the excitement, the… stars. I can't give you the stars. I'm sorry."

Her eyes flicked away from the ground. She didn't look up, only briefly glanced at him. Her eyes gleamed as they passed under a streetlight, and then her face became a dark mask once more. His words struck a chord somewhere deep inside her, but she couldn't quite hear its melody.

"That's not… why I traveled," she murmured. "I traveled because I loved…" _You_.

The word didn't quite escape her lips, and she was shocked that it was even in her mind. Pulling her coat tighter around her body, Rose hurried ahead of him, away from him, and didn't look back. She locked herself in her room when she got home and didn't hear him return. But she wasn't asleep, only preoccupied.

_I love him. I loved him. I love… _

The thought wouldn't come. Rose buried her face in her pillow and drove it away through sheer force of will.


	4. IV

Sometimes he left the flat for hours at a time. At first, Rose didn't care; it was peaceful when he was out of the house. She didn't have to be on guard. She could curl up in the armchair and be alone with her thoughts. If she was awake when he came back, they didn't speak. Only once did she turn and look at him at the doorway – he was soaked through, and she caught a brief glimpse of his hand on the doorknob before he shoved it in his pocket. His knuckles were bruised and bleeding.

Rose's heart twisted in her chest. He didn't heal fast like a Time Lord anymore. He'd have scars.

Slowly, wordlessly, she stood up. He slept here in the den, after all. As she passed him on her way to her room, he grabbed her hand, weakly, like he couldn't close his grip all the way. Rose stared down at their fingers, which she had intertwined with his out of habit, then at his pale, tired face, her pulse racing.

Then the Doctor let go. Without even taking off his wet clothes, he collapsed onto the couch, shivering.

Rose down the hallway to her room, slammed the door, and leaned back against it, trying to remember how to breathe. Did one have to cry to be able to breathe? Was that what it took for her to live now?

Whenever he disappeared after that, she couldn't stop thinking about him. Sometimes, even, she realized she was worried. _What if he's lost? Or hurt? What if he's leaving, for good, to find something else?_

She blinked when she noticed she was putting her boots on, and her jacket. She hadn't decided to, but she was going after him. Out into the cold London night she ran, wondering where even to begin. She glanced down every alley she passed, looked round every corner – sometimes she found herself hoping she'd see a blue police box.

By some miracle, she found him, at least three miles from home. He was standing at the corner of a deserted street, his heavy white breath visible in rapid puffs in front of his mouth. Rose stopped dead around the corner so he couldn't see her. Quietly she peered around the edge of the wall, watching him.

Without warning he punched the wall of the building he was facing, so hard it made her gasp aloud; she quickly stifled the sound with her hand. She watched him withdraw his trembling hand, flexing it, then turn around and lean against the wall, his eyes closed, his face to the sky.

Is this what he was doing, then? Looking for trouble to feed his war-born soul, finding none, making it for himself instead? Punching walls and running for hours, just to make himself feel _something_… because God knew she wasn't helping him feel anything. She only drove him further and further away with every dropped gaze, every cold shoulder, every silent conversation.

It cost her tears to breathe through a broken heart. What did it cost a man whose heart had never been whole? Pain and fury? Rose let out a strangled sob; she couldn't help it, just like she couldn't stop her legs from shaking.

"Rose?"

He had heard her. He stood under the streetlight at the corner, staring at her. Yet again he shoved his hands in his pockets. "You walked all this way to find me?"

"I walked across entire universes to find you," she said, without even thinking about it.

He simply continued to stare, his eyes wide… and desperately hopeful. When she felt herself longing to reach out to him, to hold him, to comfort him, Rose gasped – and one word echoed in her head. _Run._

_Run for your life, Rose Tyler._


	5. V

Weeks after he left – weeks after _he_ stayed – she began to tremble. She stood by the window in her old room, her forehead on the cool glass, her eyes closed. She began to shake and cry, and somehow the Doctor heard. He came running from the living room. She whipped around as he entered, but couldn't think of anything to say, any protest to make. In a few long strides, he crossed the room and pulled her into his arms, tightly, protectively. His heartbeat rang loud in her ears over the muffled sobs she tried to bite back.

"Shh, shh. It's all right, Rose, it's all right."

He pulled away a moment to cup her face in his hands. But Rose shook her head violently against his touch, snatching his wrists and yanking his hands from her face. He didn't resist; he even took a step back. But the sudden, fierce burn of his eyes trapped Rose in place. For once, his gaze was directed and clear; he had come to some decision, she could tell. He was making a stand. He wasn't running away anymore.

_I am._

She could see the whole world in his gaze - no, the whole universe. The universe they had known together, and the one they had yet to explore.

"I'm here. I'm _your_ Doctor, Rose."

Her death grip around his wrists relaxed, but only slightly. Later he'd show her the bloody marks her nails left on his skin. Rocking back on his heels, the Doctor swallowed, tried to smile at her.

"How'd you know?" she shot at him. "How'd you know that's what I was thinking about?"

Slowly, his face fell; he looked hurt, baffled. Not baffled as if he didn't know the answer - rather as if he didn't know why she would be asking.

"Because I _know_ you, Rose Tyler! I remember the look on your face when you stepped inside the TARDIS for the first time, when you saw the Earth about to burn, when you saw your father right before he died! I remember dancing with you, riding a motorcycle through the streets of old London, laughing with you till our sides were about to burst, and nearly, so _very_ nearly, losing you time and time again… I remember you standing on the beach when you told me you loved me, and I wanted to die right then and there because I didn't say it back soon enough. I remember loving you, ever since I met you. Every smile, every touch – you saved me, Rose, saved me from myself, gave me hope, a reason to live! He's me, I'm him, I'm me - I remember it all. Tell me you do too."

"I know, Doctor," she said by rote. And then she caught herself. It finally sank in, each of his words, every memory he evoked flashing through her mind like a film in fast forward. He was there, in every scene. It _was_ him.

"I've only got one heart, Rose Tyler," he said. "All along I've been trying to prove to you… it's yours. It's all yours. And if you won't take it, I…" He choked, swallowed, and looked away, and she thought it was because there was a glimmer in his eyes that he didn't want her to see.

It didn't matter, just then, that they were in a dull London flat on a dull London street. It didn't matter that they didn't have the stars and the adventures, that he didn't have two hearts and a time machine. She realized, all of a sudden – with him, it hadn't been about the traveling and the sights.

She loved the Doctor himself far more than the life he led.

Her smile was tremulous, but it was true. She bit her lip and took a small step toward him, for once almost shy.

"_I know._"

He didn't move for a second, his mouth stuck open in surprise and his eyes wide and gleaming. His face split into a breathless smile. A single tear slipped down his cheek. "Oh, Rose," he whispered. "I love you. I love you so much."

The way the Doctor laughed when he picked her up, spun her around in his arms, and kissed her when he set her down again, so artless and thoughtless like a giddy teenager in love, was so very _him_ that Rose couldn't help but laugh too. Or was she crying? She couldn't tell, but finally, she felt _right_ again. She wrapped her arms around his neck, buried her face in his shoulder, and clung to her Doctor like she'd never let go again.

"I love you," he repeated. "I love you, I love you, I love you. I have to say it, Rose, again and again, so you know, because I might be dreaming and this could all disappear but you have to know before I - "

She pressed her fingers quickly against his lips. "Shh, Doctor. Don't worry. This time… this time, it's not your last chance to say it."

"I'll say it every day. Every minute. I'll tell the whole world. Just in case."


	6. VI

Day by day, Rose could feel the ice in her heart melting, pooling warmly in her stomach, as she watched him go about his daily life, his life with her. It wasn't so different from seeing him in the TARDIS, busily fixing things. He had always been there every morning when she woke up, with his shirt unbuttoned or hair mussed, perhaps. He was so very definitively the same man.

It was that knowledge, which Rose had so desperately needed for so long, that now began to frighten her again, worry creeping into her heart like cold winter air through a cracked window.

He broke the toaster accidentally. He'd been fiddling with it too much, trying to make it toast the toast quicker, and trying to rig up a button that would evenly butter the toast for you while it was toasting. Of course, none of it worked, and he was left with singed eyebrows and a smoking hunk of metal on the kitchen counter. Watching the whole affair bemusedly, Rose couldn't help but let out a small laugh. The Doctor looked up at once, a hopeful, achingly familiar smile spreading across his face.

"I made you laugh," he said gleefully. "It's been a while since I've made you laugh."

"Yeah. Yeah, it has." But her smile was already fading. _We used to laugh, all the time. Until it all ended._

The Doctor frowned and abandoned the smoking kitchen appliance. "But you're not happy," he said, hurrying to her and gripping her arms. His eyes flicked between each of hers. "You laughed, but you're not happy. You're… you're scared. Why're you scared?"

"Because every time we've been happy before – all the times we used to laugh – they always ended," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "What if it happens again? What if I'm kidding myself and you – you – you leave again, and I'm alone again…"

It hadn't been his fault. It had never, ever been his fault, but for every smile they shared, every laugh, every touch, there had been an equal number of tears, after he had left her. Twice, really, he left her, and though she found him again both times, she didn't think she could handle it if he left again.

"What if you leave me?" she breathed. "You're the _Doctor_, you are, and what if you can't do domestic, stuck here forever, and if you leave I can't – I can't - "

Rose gasped for breath, forcing herself not to cry. There were too many tears yet to be atoned for by love and laughter to make any more. Suddenly all the air vanished from her lungs as his lips pressed against hers without warning, his hold on her arms tightening until he moved to grab her by the waist instead. He wrapped his arms fully around her body to pull her close against him.

"Stuck with you, though, that's not so bad," he teased softly. Rose let out a strangled sound against his chest, somewhere between a laugh and a sob, while the Doctor's hand cupped her cheek and tilted her face so she was staring up at him. "Where would I go, Rose? Where would I even _want_ to go, except for right here where you are?"

"But you always leave. Everyone you've traveled with… You've always left them."

His forehead fell to rest upon hers. Rose tasted his breath with every inhalation. At first, his hand trembled against her cheek, but it stilled as he spoke. "You are not everyone," he whispered. "You are Rose Tyler, and without you I would have been dead long ago, or worse. You are the reason for every breath I take and every beat of my heart. Don't you ever doubt that."

She believed him. She truly did; she believed he was the Doctor and she believed he loved her, but now it would take something more. Now she would have to _trust_ him again, something she had not done, as much as she loved him, since the first time she stood on that cold Norwegian beach so long ago. Slowly she slipped her hands through the scant space between them, wrapping her arms round his shoulders, rising onto her toes so their noses bumped, their lips brushed. She caught his mouth with hers briefly, touch-and-go, letting him reach for her when she pulled away. But she didn't go far.

"I don't," she said quietly.

The next time they kissed, she felt his smile. She, too, couldn't help but grin, relishing the sensation of being so close, so breathlessly close, just like she had dreamt of for so long.


	7. VII

When she's ready, he takes her to the park at night to stargaze. They lie on a blanket side by side, a cool summer breeze washing over their skin. They touch, but only barely; their shoulders and legs brush softly against each other. For a long time, they're quiet. Rose remembers their journey across the stars, and she knows he's remembering it, too. Beauty and grace and pain, everything that made life worth living; they had seen it all, and felt it, too.

"Is this really where you want to be?" she whispers suddenly.

"Hm?" His head tilts towards hers; she looks at him, too, and their lips are scant inches apart.

"Just… you're part Time Lord. You could've… not stayed. Could've traveled, you know, in the other universe. Or something."

"But then I couldn't have been with you," he says simply, frowning, his brows furrowed.

"Is this really worth giving all that up?"

His hand finds hers and squeezes it tight. Dark eyes burn into her soul as he doesn't waste a moment, doesn't hesitate at all.

"Rose, I was _born_ in love with you. Adoring you. Just wanting to be close to you, with you, all the time. You are worth all the universes in existence to me, Rose Tyler. Every one. I can't _believe_ it, sometimes, how lucky I am… to have been given a _choice_, one that I wanted to make a long time ago." He smiles, recognizing the moment. "That I'm never going to leave you."

Rose opens her mouth, closes it again, stares at him through blurring vision. She only realizes she's crying once he brushes away the tear on her cheek. The stars and moon vanish; all that matters is that he's there, a fallen star himself. Rose snuggles in close to him; his warm arm wraps around her and soft lips kiss her forehead. His heartbeat is her pillow. She dozes off before long, slipping into the darkness with him.


	8. VIII

They looked through the new flat together. Rose watched him carefully. His hands rested in his pockets as he stared vaguely up and around, pacing in small circles and rocking back and forth on his heels.

"Well? D'you like it?"

"What? Yeah, yeah, I do," he said quickly, then returned to pacing and staring.

Slowly she went over to him, touching him on the shoulder to catch his attention. She raised an eyebrow. "Doctor? What is it?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing," he said with a shrug and a smile. But the smile faded little by little as the silence between them grew longer. At last he sighed. "It's just… it's not the TARDIS. All the time I spent there, all the time _we_ spent there. Those were always the happiest, you know."

Rose smiled. She slid her hand down his arm, twining their fingers together. "Remember when we were trapped on the Sanctuary Base on Krop Tor? And we talked about getting a mortgage? You wanted to die just thinking about it! Now look at you!"

He made a face at that, but the smile that followed was honest and warm. "Settling down, taking out a _mortgage_ – only you, Rose Tyler, could make this an adventure." Quickly he dipped his head to kiss her. He had a way of doing that, taking her by surprise every time, making her heart skip a beat no matter how often it happened. But this time she didn't let him pull away. She grabbed his jacket to hold him close for a while longer, and when she finally let go, his eyes blinked wide with surprise.

"You know," she said, her pulse suddenly racing. She titled her head and stared at the ceiling, as if the words were offhand, not really important. "If we're going to live here… we could… make the place special somehow, don'cha think?"

He stared at her blankly. "Special? What d'you mean?"

Rose jerked her head at the bedroom behind her, and raised one eyebrow. She bit her tongue as a smile spread across her face, and almost burst out laughing when she saw understanding hit the Doctor. His mouth dropped open and he looked up and away, as if in deep thought; she was sure she could see a _blush_ creeping up his cheeks.

"Oh. _Oh_. You mean – _well_, I – yes, that would be one way – special, I mean - "

"Oh, shut up, you," she said, rolling her eyes. Following a kiss from her, he obliged at once. She led him into the bedroom by the hand, and they fell together onto the mess of the half-made bed.

"Wait. Doctor." Between the frantic kissing and undressing, a thought struck her, and she froze, frowning at him. "It's not - _different_ - for Time Lords than humans, is it?"

The Doctor paused, his shirt off his head but his arms still hanging in the sleeves. He blinked, tilted his head in thought, then shrugged. "No, not really, no."

"Right, just checking. Carry on?" Without waiting for a reply, she grabbed his shirt, tossed it away, and kissed him again, pulling him down on top of her.

His hands skimmed along her sides, his palms calloused but gentle. Sparks trailed his lips across her body. Their gazes met in brief flashes, always followed by a grin. He lifted her up suddenly, pulling her astride him, his hands round her waist. She tangled her hands in his hair and bit her lip, teasing him.

"Have you thought about this much before, Doctor?" she said impiously, reveling in his darkened gaze and wandering hands.

"I choose not to answer," he said. He paused to leave soft, open-mouthed kisses on her neck and collar. "At risk of incriminating myself."

After that, it was a whirlwind of eager laughs and breathless gasps, of gentle touches and fierce kisses. She savored each second; her mind went blank, and she let herself simply _feel_. The moment was endless, magical… almost as magical as lying beside him for the rest of the day, tangled in sheets and each other, talking and laughing and loving in equal measure.


	9. IX

A yell rent the silence of their little flat. The Doctor shot bolt upright in bed, Rose jolting into a heart-pounding wakefulness at the shock of his scream. "Doctor? What is it, what's wrong?"

She reached for his hand and found his skin was clammy and cold. The moment her skin touched his, he whipped around and grabbed her shoulders, shaking her fiercely.

"We've got to go, Rose. They're coming."

"What? Who's coming? What're you on about?"

"They're coming! All of them, they're coming back, and they're going to find me – you have to go, Rose, you can't be here, you'll be hurt - "

His skin was white as the stars in the sky, and she had never seen such an expression before, sadness and desperation and dread traced into every line of his face, making him look far older than an ordinary person might assume. Anger fueled his fear, making his body shake; Rose recognized that much. His grip around her arms tightened painfully, so fierce that she knew it would leave a bruise.

"I'll kill them if they hurt you, Rose. I'll kill them all. I'll protect you. I'll destroy entire planets, if that's what it takes to save your life."

She took a deep breath and forced her voice to be calm and even.

"Doctor, I don't know what you're seeing, or hearing, or whatever, but _it's not real_. Remember? We're in an alternate reality. There's no one coming. No one _can_ come."

He simply stared. The anger drained out of him at the sound of her voice, if not her words. "But they'll kill you, Rose," he said, and he sounded like a little boy, he was so scared. And ashamed. "They'll kill you to get to me. Because I killed them. All of them. I thought I did, I _meant to_ - "

"Shh, shh." Rose placed her hand on his lips, and watched him close his eyes, still shaking. "I promise you, Doctor. We're safe here. I'm safe. All those things you did… It's over. This darkness inside of you… you can beat it, Doctor. Because I'm here, remember? And I love you. I'm right here. It's okay."

"I can't get away from it, Rose. It's my fault. I can't do it."

"You can, Doctor. If I believe in one thing, I believe in _you_."

He stared, his mouth open. He blinked rapidly, and she thought she glimpsed a tear; he immediately looked down and away, shaking his head.

Rose gasped as he hugged her so suddenly, so tightly, it almost knocked the breath right out of her. She laughed a little and hugged him back, resting her head over his racing heart, feeling his fingers tangle in her hair. His face was buried in her shoulder, but she still heard his muffled words.

"Thank you, Rose…"


	10. X

"Rose, Rose! Come in here, look, quickly!"

The Doctor burst into her room; she heard the door slam, making her jump and turn around. She was wearing only a towel wrap, wet hair clinging to her face, but the Doctor didn't care. He grabbed her hand and pulled her, stumbling, into the living room.

"Doctor, I'm fresh out of the shower, what - ?"

"Look at it!" he exclaimed, pointing at the television. "Wouldn't it be great to go there? _Magnificent_."

It was a documentary about the Grand Canyon in Arizona, U.S.A. The camera sailed over truly beautiful scenery. Sheer, colorful cliffs, raging rapids, deep crevasses. It was certainly magnificent, but Rose had to laugh.

"After everything you've seen, all those planets and different worlds and the colors of stars and everything, you're this excited about the Grand Canyon in America?"

His eyes widened, full of wonder and childlike excitement. "Well, we're here, aren't we? And this is an _incredible_ little planet. I mean _look!_ I've seen a lot of planets, and there's not much like that out there. It's treasured for millennia to come, I know it is. There's so many things in this world that are celebrated forever, that are never going to be forgotten. And here we are, seeing none of them. I just… I want to take you places, Rose! Maybe I don't have a TARDIS anymore but I want to take you somewhere, somewhere glorious, somewhere new! So? Shall we go? _Allons_-_y_? We can start at the Grand Canyon. Then it's a hop and a skip to the White Sand Dunes in New Mexico, we can move across the country, and _ooh_, we could unveil the mystery of the Bermuda Triangle - "

"Doctor, slow down a tick," Rose said. "It's different without the TARDIS. We can't just – up and go. I've got a job. You're _supposed_ to have a job. How would we even get there?"

"We'll take a plane," he said. "Wouldn't that be positively archaic?"

Rose crossed her arms and considered him. He was so tensed with pent-up energy, the need to explore, that he'd be bouncing off the walls before long. One heart or two, he was still the Doctor. He could never stay in one place. And she felt it in herself, too. The tingling in her toes, the way the breath caught in her throat at the thought. She wanted to get away. She wanted to be always on the move. The tingling spread from her toes to her heart to her fingertips, so she grabbed his hand and smiled.

"Let's do it, Doctor."

He let out a whoop of victory and scooped her off her feet. "Oh, I love you, Rose Tyler," he said emphatically, and kissed her hard on the lips for just a second before rushing away. The front door clicked open, and cold air rushed in. "Well? Aren't you coming, then?"

"Well, I'd like to put some clothes on, if that's all right with you!" She grinned. "Traveling by plane takes a little more time to organize than it does by TARDIS, you know."

"How much time?"

"Well, we've got to get you a passport, Mister _John Smith_. I got fair pay from Torchwood, but I'll have to ask for vacation days, I suppose..."

As she outlined the details, they moved to the couch, where Doctor listened attentively, lips pressed shut and eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He rested his chin neatly in his hands, nodding at the appropriate pauses, and waited patiently for her to finish explaining everything they'd need to do.

"Anything else?" he said, his chin still cupped in his hands.

Rose took a deep breath. "Nope, I think that's everything."

"_Marvelous!" _He jumped, literally jumped, to his feet. "We'll do that first thing in the morning and be gone by the afternoon. _Allons_-_y_, Rose Tyler!" Pausing before he turned to go, he quickly bent down, grabbed her face, and kissed her again. "Did I mention that I love you?"

And away he went, leaving Rose shaking her head, but smiling.


	11. XI

They don't talk about him much. _Him_ being the other Doctor. The one out in the universe somewhere, still in the TARDIS, living the life of the last Time Lord. They don't need to, after all; they have each other.

But every now and then, when the warm hand of the man she loved closes around hers, and she looks up into his face feeling happier than she had ever imagined she could feel, she wonders if _he_ ever felt the same, out there. He had always seemed like such a lonely man. Like her Doctor had been here in this world, until she had trusted him. Healed him.

Like she had been, too, for so long. She didn't like to think about those years much, either. But it came up sometimes, during their trips together. Like when they were lost in an impenetrable mist on an old country road, and the Doctor had frantically tried to solve the problem, to be the leader, to guide her through the mysteriously cloaked world. But it had been Rose who had taken his hand, who had calmly searched for the way back home. "I got used to being lost," she'd murmured. "And I got good at finding home." He hadn't replied, but she knew he understood. His gaze was sad, and he squeezed her fingers gently.

So it was strange, then, when she found the other Doctor creeping into her mind again.

"Is he lonely out there?" she says suddenly.

He turns to her with a raised eyebrow. No more explanation was needed; he knew who she meant. "Do you really want to know?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I do."

Her Doctor turns his pensive gaze to the sky. He opens his mouth, closes it again, frowns; stars reflect in his eyes. "It's always been a lonely life, that of a Time Lord," he says. "He thinks about you often. But he goes on. Meets people, saves worlds, changes lives."

"Is he happy? Even when he thinks of me?"

"_I_ always am."

At that she smiles. "Well then, I s'pose he is, too, then. Happy, I mean."

"I suppose so."

The wide ocean stretches out beneath them as they stand on the very tip of the peninsula in Cape Town, South Africa. Midnight-black waves crash on the cliffs far below. City lights behind them swallow some of the stars, but along the flat horizon they are small and brilliant and beautiful. Rose sees none of them. She sees only him, her heart swelling with emotion.

He cups her cheek with his hand, tucks her hair behind her ear. For the first time, the Doctor leans toward her slowly rather than suddenly. His gaze flickers between her eyes and her lips. In the cool air between their faces, their breath mingles, lingering, warming. Her eyelids flutter closed; his lips brush hers ever so gently, then pull away. It is unlike any kiss they'd shared before. She follows his lips like a moth drawn to flame, hesitating there, savoring the quiet intimacy. The Doctor's hands find her waist, drawing her close to his body. Their lips meet again, and Rose realizes something.

She misses the sky, the stars, the past and future. They are peerless, dazzling, dangerous, exciting.

But none of them hold even the smallest candle to the here and now. To the feel of her body pressing against his, their hearts beating as one, their smiles simultaneous and their laughter bright. He whispers to her, slowly, for once, because it has finally sunk in that they have all the time in the world together.

"_I love you."_

"Quite right, too," she murmurs against his mouth.


	12. XII

No matter where they were, how shoddy the hostels or how cold and dirty the rooms, the Doctor slept very deeply, Rose noticed. She had never, ever known him to sleep when they were in the TARDIS – maybe he was making up for lost time. She always woke up first and glanced over at him, gracelessly lying on his front with his head turned toward her, mouth slightly open. Usually, his arm rested across her body, warm and heavy. Gingerly she tried to slip away without waking him. Instantly the Doctor noticed her absence, even in sleep; he shifted and closed his mouth into a pouty little frown.

Rose giggled, then immediately covered her mouth with her hands. The Doctor's eyelids twitched.

Quickly she jumped back onto the bed and kissed him on the mouth. When she pulled away, his eyes were wide open, blinking into wakefulness. Slowly his lips stretched into a broad smile.

"Morning, Doctor," Rose said cheerily.

"Good morning, Rose!" He sat up straight to kiss her back, though only briefly. "Well! Where are we headed today, love?"

She pulled a look of mock concentration. "Well, we're in Peru, so… Peru?"

"Sounds perfect! Rose, have you ever been skydiving? There are skydiving trips here. And we could hike to Macchu Picchu – I was there when they were building it, you know…"

"Doctor," Rose interrupted. "You don't always have to try so hard for me, you know."

"Do what?"

She bit her lip, trying to think of a way to explain. "It's just… You have so much energy for every little thing we do! How can a mountain hike compare to a journey through nebulas and galaxies and frozen planets and everything? You don't have to pretend to be excited, just for me… It's never gonna be like traveling in the TARDIS. But I don't mind, you know. I like just being with you."

The Doctor didn't miss a beat. "But I'm not pretending!"

"Y-you're not?"

"No! Why would I?"

Rose shrugged, running a hand through her hair in embarrassment. "I dunno, all this time, I just thought… I just thought you were only being excited for my sake, to try and make things like they were."

At once the Doctor grabbed both her hands and squeezed them tight, dipping his head till their faces were level. "Rose Tyler, these past two months have been the best of my life. The world is beautiful, _you're_ beautiful, and I... well, I know it's not the TARDIS, but I always hoped… you were having as much fun as I was?"

His expression was so earnest and hopeful; he never was a good liar, not to her, at least. When she hugged him, smiling ear to ear, he lifted her right off the ground a little and spun her around, laughing out loud. Ten minutes later, the Doctor was holding her hand as they dashed out of their room, down the stairs, and into the beautiful world together.

In Peru, the Doctor made friends with an alpaca, who licked his hair back over and over till it stood straight on end and it stayed that way despite all of Rose's best efforts to flatten it. In Japan, he delighted in tasting the most unusual foods Rose had ever seen; he mistook a spoonful of wasabi for ice cream and spent ten minutes half-crying and trying to get the spice off his tongue. In Texas, Rose practiced her American accent to the amusement of several onlookers, but when the Doctor bought a pair of cowboy boots and a hat, he whipped out the southern drawl and fit right in. On their very last plane ride, making their way toward home, the Doctor fell asleep on her shoulder.

"Burned out, Doctor?" Rose said, running her hand through his hair.

He smiled sleepily. "Yes. But I wouldn't have missed it for the world."

It was only one small world, this Earth that they could explore. But it was theirs.


	13. XIII

After a whole year away, the countertops and couch cushions of their little flat were thick with gray dust; the rooms were cold and quiet. The fridge was near empty, and a single box of pancake mix sat sadly in the cupboard, and they were both so tired that all they wanted to do was collapse right there on the threshold.

"Ah, home sweet home," the Doctor said, swaying slightly under the weight of the bags he was carrying, and the exhaustion. "Rose, I think I'm going to fall over."

"Me too," she said with a smile, heading toward their bedroom.

"No – I mean I'm _literally_ going to fall over."

She whipped around at the sound of a crash. The Doctor and all their bags slammed to the ground. He let a groan as Rose rushed back to him. As soon as she saw that he was all right, she couldn't help but laugh a little bit at his expense.

"I _told_ you that you didn't have to carry all the bags!" she said, heaving him to his feet.

"I was just trying to be a gentleman – aahh…"

After a few trips, Rose got all the bags inside, while the Doctor sat on the couch with a bag of frozen peas on his head. Rose lifted it to check the bump, then kissed his cold skin. "Lucky we had these in the freezer."

He smiled at her in return, but there was something sad in it; as soon as she noticed it, though, he looked away.

"I'm sorry it's over, too," she said. "I wish we could travel forever."

"_Well_," the Doctor said, drawing the word out for a good long moment, "There's only so much to see out there. And besides…"

He lifted the hand that wasn't stuck to the bag of frozen peas to her cheek, using his thumb to trace the line of her lips and her jaw. "A life with you is the one adventure I thought I would never have."

Rose couldn't help it. She threw her arms around him, knocking him over on the couch.

"Ouch – watch the head - "

"Oh, sorry!" She pulled away, but now she was straddling him, and she bit her lip to stop herself from smiling at his pitiful state. "It's just – well, now that we're here…" Absently she trailed a finger from his lips to his throat, his collar, deftly unbuttoning his shirt.

"Ah, Rose," he moaned, closed his eyes. "You're _taunting_ me!"

She bit her lip to stop herself from laughing. "I can't help it. You're such an easy mark sometimes."

He wrapped his free arm around her waist and pulled her down on top of him, and they both shifted and wiggled till they were comfortable, draped around each other on the narrow couch.

"Look, Doctor," Rose stretched and plucked a hair from his head. "You're going _grey_."

She glanced down at him, but he wasn't looking at her face or her hand. The way she had crawled over of him to reach his hair made it astonishingly easy for the Doctor to peer down her billowing shirt with a raised eyebrow and an appreciative smile. Rose rolled her eyes. But she smiled, too, as she rested her head across his chest and listened to his heartbeat, their legs tangled together and feet hanging off the end of the couch. She kicked off her shoes and closed her eyes.

"Will you still love me when all my hairs are gray? And when I have _wrinkles_?" he said, making a face. "I haven't had wrinkles in _decades_, it's been fantastic." His free hand encircled her waist and rubbed circles on the skin beneath her shirt.

Rose's eyelids fluttered closed. "You know I'll love you no matter what your face looks like."

His breathing slowed. His body kept her warm, and through in a drowsy daze, she murmured once more.

"I'm so glad I met you, Doctor."

"Me too," he mumbled, and his arm tightened around her before she drifted off into sleep.


	14. XIV

He had never understood true mortality before.

Perhaps that was why he was always so reckless, back when he had been – in a way – immortal. Sure, he would change, become a different man. But he would always be alive, so very alive, and there was not much that could ever take that away from him. He had always feared for the lives of his mortal companions, of course – especially for Rose. Every time they brushed with death, cold terror twisted both his hearts at the thought of losing her, at how easy it would be for her to just disappear. One little misstep and Rose would be gone. His punishment, though, was never death. His was a quieter misery, one of guilt and loneliness.

There had been times where he would rather have been dead than feel such pain.

Now, his single heart had a limited number of beats. And although he _knew_ that, he didn't _remember_ it all the time. It was one of those lapses of memory that put him in the hospital, after a particularly nasty incident at Torchwood involving a poorly planned mission to eliminate a dangerous alien microorganism in a dimension-tunnel. As the Doctor blinked back into to consciousness, he smiled.

"Hello, Rose."

She stood at the foot of his hospital bed, tears swimming in her wide brown eyes. He hadn't seen her look so scared since the battle against the Daleks in her home universe, when they had reunited and he had almost died in her arms. Now she stubbornly refused to speak, her lip trembling. The Doctor's cheerful greeting faded into the space between them, and suddenly he was hesitant, concerned. He noted the state of her makeup, running down her cheeks, and her hair, mussed and oily like it hadn't been washed for a while.

"Rose…?"

"You idiot," she managed at last, shaking her head at the ceiling. "You absolute _idiot_!"

He gulped, struggling to remember the details of the event. "What… what exactly happened again?"

One of her arms crossed across her middle, like she was physically holding herself together and upright. Her other hand was at her lips, forcing back the sobs. "Bloody hell, Doctor," she said through her fingertips. "You almost died, that's what happened. They told me. You should be dead."

"Already? You humans are so fragile," he said teasingly, trying to lighten the mood. But the effort was somewhat undermined by the shot of pain through his chest when he tried to sit up. He knew he winced visibly, his single heart hurting with every beat.

Rose didn't move a muscle. Part of her ached to run to him immediately, to hold him and comfort him, but the rest of her was still too shaken. Too frightened by the fear that had paralyzed her so completely when she heard that he was in critical condition. What if he wasn't better yet? Could she handle such relief and happiness being crushed again? She had loved and lost him once already, and it had nearly killed both of them to find each other again. And he – he didn't even look worried, not at all. He didn't understand what this meant.

"Rose?" he said again, simply.

"You need to be more careful!" she burst out. "Don't you see? You're not a Time Lord anymore, you're human, and you could die just like that! You won't regenerate anymore – it's like you don't even care, because you think, oh, it's all right, it will never be the end – but it could be this time, Doctor! And not just for you! If you're gone, I – I -"

Rose buried her face in her hands, and in the moments that followed, the Doctor could hear her breaths coming in barely controlled gasps. Instantly he tried to reach out to her, only to groan in pain upon finding he couldn't. Rose looked up at once.

"Are you okay? Should I call the nurse?"

"No, I'm fine." He looked up hopefully. "But I'd like it if you came over here next to me."

She swayed over the decision, literally swayed in place, catching herself just in time to rush toward him and sit down in the bedside chair. His extended hand was the closest part of him, so Rose clutched it tightly, bringing it to her lips. He twined their fingers together smoothly.

"I'm sorry," he breathed, his heart hurting him now more than just physically, seeing the pain so raw and near on her face. "I'm so sorry, Rose. I didn't mean to scare you. I just… forget, sometimes."

"Forget? That you're _human_? It's that insignificant?"

"No! Not when you're around." He drew their clasped hands toward his face, kissed her fingertips, never looking away from her troubled gaze. "You make me who I am. Without you… I get a little lost, I suppose."

Rose was shaking her head again. "You idiot," she said, but softly this time, gently. Her free hand brushed back his hair, skimmed over the scruff on his cheeks, paused by his lips. Soon her lips followed, a quick peck, but the Doctor caught her by the nape of her neck and held her there.

There was a new urgency in the way her mouth moved - and a new fear. With every kiss he tried to assuage it. _I'm alive, Rose. I understand._

Mortality was a small price to pay to be able to hold her, kiss her, love her.


	15. XV

"Doctor," Rose said one day, as they sat side by side on the couch, watching old movies and eating popcorn straight out of the bag, "have you ever thought that we oughta get married?"

He frowned, munching on a large handful of popcorn. "Well," he said, his mouth still halfway full. "Lessee - 'uman marriage 'ustoms - "

"Chew your food, Doctor."

He swallowed. "Right. Ah, Earth marriages… You still do white dresses, rings, and priests in the 21st century, am I right?"

"Right," Rose laughed, "but it's not just the ceremony that's important. It's the vows. Promises, I guess, that people make."

"Vows? What for?"

"You know. To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, till death do us part, all that… stuff."

Now the Doctor just looked even more confused. "Right, right. So we have to dress up and throw a party just to say that we love each other? And that we'll always be together?"

"Well, yeah."

"_Why_?" He absentmindedly tossed another piece of popcorn into his mouth. "I already love you, I'll already never leave you – don't you know that?" His eyes grew wide with worry all of a sudden, like a little lost puppy. "Rose, I - "

Rose laughed again. "Don't worry, don't worry, of _course_ I know!" She pecked him on the lips, though his expression didn't change in the slightest. She touched a hand to his slightly unshaven cheek and smiled. "Doctor, I don't need a party and a ring to prove all those things. But, well… it could be fun, couldn't it? And it'd be easier, being married, to pay for rent and all, and if we ever wanted to… I dunno… it just, might be nice? To be married?"

"Then I'd love to marry you," he said, taking her hand and kissing it. "Wait - this is what I'm supposed to do, right? Don't _I_ propose?"

"Well, you're a little late considering I already asked you to marry me first, but - "

Her words were drowned in a giggle as he grabbed her face and kissed her fiercely, knocking her backwards on the couch and sending the bag of popcorn flying all over the floor. Breathless, she stared up at him, the movie still on in the background, but it was only so much vague buzzing compared to the pounding of her heart and the words on his lips.

"Rose Tyler, will you marry me?" he said softly, his eyes sparkling. Rose couldn't take her eyes off the familiar, cheeky little smirk of his lips.

"Oh, shut up, you," she said, and she yanked him down by the collar to kiss him again.

Later, she stretched her neck to whisper into his ear. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders, his breath was hot against her skin, and every place where they touched burned like fire and lightning.

"_Yes_."


	16. XVI

It was a small, quiet affair, their wedding. A few nice white chairs, bouquets of pink and yellow roses, some close friends and family. So, small, yes - but _quiet_ was perhaps not the right word, not with Jackie Tyler involved. She was Rose's maid of honor – "Your _mum_ can be a _maid_ of honor, how does that make sense?" the Doctor had said when Rose told him, earning him a punch in the shoulder. He and his soon-to-be mother-in-law and were waiting at the podium with the priest, all dressed in their finest, for Rose to come down the aisle.

"Hey," Jackie said suddenly, in a not-so-subtle whisper. The Doctor started, staring at her in bewilderment.

"_What_?"

"Just telling you," said Jacking, leaning across the place where Rose would soon stand, "that if you make one wrong move – if you ever even _once_ hurt my daughter - "

"Jackie, I love her, you know I would never do anything to hurt her."

"Yeah, yeah, I know you do. But if – _if_ – she ever shows up at my door looking the way she did on that beach in Norway - "

The Doctor winced, and he wasn't quite sure his voice was still a whisper. "Now that's just not fair!"

Jackie poked him fiercely in the chest. "If you _ever_ do that to her again, then just know, _Doctor_, that you're gonna have to see a _real_ doctor before I'm done with you! You got that?"

The entire room – Mickey, Jake, coworkers, and friends of Rose's parents – were staring at them, open-mouthed. The Doctor shot them all a winning sort of grin, slowly leaning away from the glaring Jackie Tyler.

"Yes, mum, I've got it. On my honor." He gave her a quick little salute, and he _knew_ he saw a flash of a smile on her face before she glared again.

He was going to come up with something else, some other smart comment to reassure her of his good intentions, but the gasp of everyone else in the room made him turn. What he saw there shocked even him into speechlessness.

Rose Tyler was always beautiful to him, always. Even when she rolled out of bed in one of his old shirts, or when she had stayed up too late at work and her makeup was rubbing off her eyes, or when she channeled her inner Jackie Tyler and glared daggers at him. She was still beautiful. The Doctor had laughed, at first, at all the pomp and ceremony of human weddings – _why do you need to dress up so much, I like you with anything on, or with nothing on _– and hadn't expected to do anything but smile when she emerged.

But no. She was radiant, one arm around Pete's, peering shyly at the crowd from under a short, sheer veil. Her dress was simple but refined, glowing like it was made from moonlight itself. The Doctor stared, open-mouthed, as she walked toward him, searching his vast brain for any thought at all besides _Rose. Rose. Rose…_

"Don't look so stunned," she teased under her breath when she reached him. "It's not like you've never seen me dress nice before!"

"Y-you're beautiful," he managed, his tongue seemingly unable to get all the way around the words. "I mean, you always are, but Rose, you look… you're perfect, Rose."

She touched his arm and winked, biting her tongue as she smiled.

The Doctor couldn't quite remember the details of anything that happened next. They said their vows, they slipped cool gold rings onto each other's fingers, and people clapped and cheered, but all he knew was Rose, her shining eyes and wide smile.

And her hand slipping warmly into his, and never letting go.


	17. XVII

A happily married couple now, Rose decided there were a few things the Doctor needed to learn how to do. Laundry, for one. And dishes. She taught him how to make pancakes and boil noodles, because he'd never once had to learn to cook in the TARDIS, and she was quite afraid he'd starve himself if she weren't around. He also kept tearing through what remained of their savings at the half-off bookshop, devouring old sci-fi novels by the day.

"I know they're cheap, but you can't keep spending money like that, you know," Rose said. "Get a library card or something!"

"It's just _remarkable_ how completely and utterly wrong they are! Since when can you travel through space and time with a _piece of paper_ that you fold and that literally folds the universe around you? Anyway, what else have we got to spend it on?" he replied, flipping through another book's pages. "Just the two of us and pancake mix?"

Her cheeks grew hot, and before she knew it she was speaking words she hadn't planned on saying at all quite yet. The sassy retort crossed her lips with absolutely no regard to her intentions. "_Well_, Doctor, it might not be _just_ the two of us for much longer."

The Doctor frowned, nearly not understanding. Rose laid a hand across her stomach, the bump probably noticeable only to her. She was sure her cheeks were positively flaming now; her blush was as involuntary as the grin that tugged at her lips when she watched comprehension dawn across the Doctor's face.

"No," he breathed. His shocked, wide eyes began to glow; his smile grew larger and larger with each passing second until he let out a whoop of laughter. "Rose, you're joking!"

"I'm not," she said, biting back laughter. "I would've said something sooner, but – we never talked about it – I didn't know if you'd be happy - "

"Happy? Oh, Rose – I didn't talk about it because I didn't know – I'm still part Time Lord, I didn't know if we even _could_ - " He stopped suddenly, mid-sentence, to kiss her passionately, like he couldn't contain himself; he lifted her off her feet and onto the counter. Rose let out a squeak of surprise, which unfortunately made the Doctor pull away and gasp.

"Wait – should I not do that anymore? Do you need to lie down? Should I make you tea? Or dinner?"

"And burn the whole building down?" Rose scoffed. She draped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him close with her legs tight round his rips. "Never. But what you _can_ do is carry me to the bedroom. And we're not gonna leave for a good long while, got it?"

The Doctor saluted her, nearly whacking her in the face in the process. "Yes, ma'am – oh! sorry!"

Rose threw her head back and laughed, letting him kiss her on her neck, her collarbone. Slim and foxy though he was, he carried her from the kitchen to the bedroom, still kissing her while her hands worked busily at the buttons of his shirt. Her shoving it off his shoulders shook his balance, and they collapsed backwards onto the bed in a jumble of kisses and giggles.


	18. XVIII

"Look, Rose! Look what I made for the baby!"

Out of the absolute disaster that was the sitting room floor, the Doctor pulled up what looked like a space-age spider made of wires and bouncy balls and cut-up bits of colored paper, and with far too many legs.

"What is _that_?"

"It's a mobile! For the baby's crib!" he said excitedly. "See? It's the universe. Here's Earth, in the middle. That's not strictly accurate, but something had to be in the middle, so why not the Earth. And so this piece moves around the sun, here - " – it was a spiky bit of orange paper covered in sparkles – "which is on this edge of our galaxy, see? On the other side we've got Proxima Centauri, Sirius, Vega… And this over here, this is the Andromeda galaxy, then the planet Raxacoricofallapatorius, and Sontar, and all the way to the outside – the planet Gallifrey!"

Gallifrey was paper origami painted over with silver, with little turrets and castles and everything. The stars and the galaxy were scenes cut from the covers of his paperback sci-fi novels. It was messy, and scribbled over with circular Gallifreyan letters – and reminded her somehow of the inside of the TARDIS: a rusty, half-broken catastrophe waiting to happen. And yet, when treated with love and devotion, it always worked.

"I love it," Rose said, kneeling down next to him to look at it more closely. She was careful to keep her hand on her belly, steadying herself. "And I'm sure he – or she – will too!"

The Doctor titled his head so his ear was pressed to her stomach. "It's a girl," he said, after a moment of thinking.

"What? How can you possibly know that? The doctor – the medical one, I mean – couldn't even tell yet!"

"I speak baby – she sounds like a girl in there. Didn't you know?" he said, grinning up at her. "We're going to have a baby girl. What say you to me working on a crib next? It can be blue, just like the TARDIS!"

"Knock yourself out. S'long as you clean up this mess first! Blimey, I'm going to have two children to look after before long…"

He built not only a crib fashioned after the TARDIS, but an infant-sized sonic screwdriver  
("_Doctor, she'll swallow it, that's not safe!"_), a playspace made of mirrors and neutrino satellites to show her images from all across the universe ("_What if she knocks over a mirror and it breaks? What if she gets pulled into the big wide universe?"_), and a nappy-changing bed that was supposed to do it all automatically ("_Doctor, that's never gonna work with a real baby!"_)

But despite all her protests, her smile – like her belly – got bigger every time he showed her something new.


	19. XIX

**A/N:** This is the last chapter that doesn't delve into my headcanon. And my headcanon will probably be proven wrong by canon shortly. Shall I post it anyway, or leave this as canon-following? A different story perhaps? Let me know! Thanks.

* * *

"Doctor…"

"Mhmm?" he mumbled sleepily, rolling over and tossing an arm across her belly. Rose grunted in pain.

"_Doctor!_"

His eyes snapped open and he shot upright. "What? What is it? What's wrong?"

"What do you think?" she gasped, clutching her stomach. Pain rolled through her whole body, from her chest to her abdomen. "Call mum – and get the car keys - "

"Right! Car! Mum!" He scrambled out of bed, dashing frantically between the kitchen and sitting room. He popped his head back through the bedroom door. "Wait, which one do you want me to do first?"

"_DOCTOR_!"

"Right, sorry!"

Unshaven, messy-haired, and pajama-clad, the Doctor barely had time to throw on his jacket and grab the phone and car keys before Rose was yelling at him to hurry up. Five minutes later, a very uncomfortable Rose had been loaded into the car, and they were listening to a hysterical Jackie Tyler on speakerphone as the Doctor drove like he used to drive the TARDIS, quickly and madly. Rose barely remembered the journey from the car to the hospital bed – only that the Doctor kept pace beside her, and he never stopped talking – _you're doing great, Rose, it'll be okay, Rose, when the baby pops out I'll catch it, Rose_ –

Her laugh was strangled by a moan of pain. The midwife nodded at the Doctor and Jackie, each of whom clutched one of Rose's hands. "'Bout time now."

The Doctor had seen quite a lot in his life, but Rose gathered from his behavior that he had never seen humans give birth before. His mouth fell wide open and his brow furrowed deeply in utter astonishment. "It's just so _primitive_ – ouch!" he exclaimed at one point, when Rose squeezed his hand so hard he thought his fingers might break.

But when the midwife finally passed Rose a little bundle of a baby, a tiny red face glowing against a pale pink blanket, the Doctor was speechless. Rose's hair stuck to her sweaty face; she was tired, exhausted, and so beautiful with their daughter in her arms. Rose cooed to her, and so did the Doctor, extending a trembling, scarred hand to touch his daughter's cheek. A flawless miniature of that same hand squirmed free of the blankets and closed around the Doctor's finger, soft and light.

"Oh, Rose," he breathed, staring from her to the baby and back again. He kissed Rose gently, briefly, on the lips; it was hard because neither of them could stop smiling.

"I think she looks like you, Doctor," said Rose. "Don'cha think so, Mum?"

"The eyes a bit, yeah - and the hair! No wonder you had such awful indigestion, when I was pregnant it was the hair that killed me…"

The Doctor and Rose let Jackie ramble on, reveling in the perfect little "_pink and yellow_ _thing"_ in their arms, as the Doctor called her – "She's not a _thing_, Doctor, she's a _baby_!" Sure enough, a little tuft of brown hair stuck straight up on her forehead; Rose brushed it into a peak just like her father's.

"Hello, sweetheart," Rose whispered, kissing her forehead. The baby let out a cry, a healthy, lovely cry, and pulled at her mother's hair.

The Doctor cradled his daughter's head in one large hand. When Rose passed him the little bundle to hold, his heart skipped a beat. Such a tiny life, and yet full of so much magnificence, hope, potential; everything that was so wonderful about the human race, everything that he had fallen in love with. His human daughter clenched a fist over his heart. She was calling to him, speaking without words. Already, she was dreaming of things beyond her reach.

"Welcome to the world, dearest," the Doctor murmured. "Dearest Clara. I can't wait to show you the universe."


End file.
